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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912223">Echo Chamber</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcaulfield/pseuds/mcaulfield'>mcaulfield</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Battle Wives, Begins Post-BFA but Pre-Shadowlands Cinematic, Denial, F/F, First-Person Sylvanas POV, Hurt/Comfort, Jaina doesn't know what boundaries are, Loose Cannons, Mild Kink, Political Marriage, Sexual Tension, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, disaster bisexual, hate to lust to love, useless lesbian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:01:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcaulfield/pseuds/mcaulfield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to maintain control over the Horde after the mak'gora, Sylvanas was cornered into a ceasefire with the Alliance and a political marriage to the only woman capable of matching her in combat — Jaina, who has a stubborn need to know what is occurring at all times.</p><p>Tyrande and Greymane have no interest in honoring the peace treaty. Their vendetta against Sylvanas and the Horde as a whole will not be satiated by anything less than smoke and blood spent for all that was taken from them — even if that places Jaina in harm's way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Into The Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The problem with having this many WIPs is that it becomes intimidating to know which one to work on first — do I decide based on when a fic was last updated? What if I don’t have any momentum for that fic but I have some thoughts on a more recent one? Or a totally new one, like this? Will the readers hold that against me? I try to tell myself that you won’t, so I sincerely hope that you don’t. If you do, well...sorry, I guess! This is just how my brain works and quarantine seems to have made my writer’s block somehow worse, unlike so many of you churning out regular chapters on massive works lol.</p><p>Work title is the song “Echo Chamber,” originally done by Veil of Maya, but I much prefer Lauren Babic’s cover so listen to that if you like metal and haven’t heard it. Each chapter title will be a song, and I’ll include a link to a Spotify playlist at the end of each chapter with the songs in order. Genres will, most likely, vary wildly.</p><p>If you’re a fan of a slightly darker, angsty Sylvanas who takes a while to start changing, you’ll like this one.</p><p>...And yes, yes I did call the treaty the Non-Aggression Pact so I could say Tyrande and Genn have no chill and will not rest even to take a...you guessed it...nap. I hate me, too.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm not too sure what I'm supposed to do with this;</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>These hands, this mind, this instability.</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>From the cage I created to a Hell that Heaven made,</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Can't let go of the hatred, 'cause I love the way it tastes!</span>
  </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>This was the second time Proudmoore had entered the bathing quarters without permission.</p>
<p>“I thought I told you to wait <em> outside,” </em> I growled. I did not turn to face her or even move from my posture — forehead pressed to the cool slate tile as the hot water fell onto my back from the shower I wasn’t fully under, palms braced against the stone in front of each shoulder. She muttered something about just needing a thing or two before she retired for the evening and that she’d be out quickly. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath to cool my rising temper. The bitterness I’d been ruminating on churned in my chest and rolled into a dull ache in my skull.</p>
<p>As I heard her gather her things, I rotated my head slightly to watch the Lord Admiral out of the corner of my eye. She hesitated when she reached the door to leave, looking at me with <em> concern. </em> I narrowed my eyes at her, though I knew the glare held little effect with how dimly my eyes burned.</p>
<p>“...Sylvanas?”</p>
<p>“Get out.”</p>
<p>“Are you oka—”</p>
<p>“<b> <em>GET OUT!</em> </b>”</p>
<p>With my eyes clenched shut, the rattling of the door as it slammed into its frame made me flinch. <em> Damn </em> Proudmoore and her fucking audacity. Damn her for seeing me in this state. I’d come to take a shower and <em> brood, </em> not have my emotions scrutinized by my fucking <em> consort. </em></p>
<p>A heavy sigh passed my lips. This arrangement was trying my patience already. It was the only way they’d let me live and remain Warchief after all that occurred between my own actions and the war against the Old Gods. Those of us who were <em> wise </em>knew it wasn’t over with the defeat of N’zoth. Who knows if it ever will be. But to prevent a total overhaul of the factions, which we’d seemed to be heading straight towards, the leaders of the Alliance and Horde devised a plan. A plan to “keep me in check” so they could maintain the status quo as we all licked our wounds. I knew what that really meant. It was so they could deal with me later, when it was less inconvenient for their sociopolitical agendas.</p>
<p>Proudmoore was a bit too eager to volunteer for the position. Though <em> she </em> was to be <em> my </em> consort, there were no illusions about her purpose — she wanted to be in a position where she could report my every move to the Alliance, and to end me if I made a single misstep. I had lost almost all privacy as a result and could no longer take to the wilderness to lash out when a sour mood struck. So, I took what solace I could in showers. Long, hot showers that would have scalded my flesh were I still alive. The heat and dull pain grounded me while I tried to escape the thoughts that threatened to consume me.</p>
<p>I found it impossible to avoid thoughts about my time as Warchief. I didn’t quite <em> regret </em> anything I’d done — regret is not a word in my vocabulary. But public opinion still stung. I heard and saw what the majority of both the Alliance <em> and </em> the Horde thought of me. My name was tossed around like a rag doll amidst language like “evil” and “beyond redemption” for years. There were people who thought I was becoming like <em> Arthas. </em> People who thought I was another Garrosh. People who thought I was working for or even mind controlled by <em> N’zoth. </em>Even those who thought I was an agent of the Burning Legion. I’d heard it all. Seen the editorials, read the conspiracy theories.</p>
<p>It seemed no one wanted to believe I was still of sound mind. They wanted to believe my actions were out of character and the power I showed in the Mak’gora with Saurfang was not my own — though, admittedly, my power <em> had </em> grown. They thought, somehow, that I had intrinsically <em> changed. </em> Those who remain loyal to me know I haven’t. Those who remain loyal to me know I have always had a plan and have known me to be just as cunning and caustic as always. These were not new developments. They simply hadn’t been under such public scrutiny before.</p>
<p>Were my actions in this supposed “Fourth War” cruel? At times, yes. Were they all necessary? <em> Absolutely. </em> The masses could bicker over the necessity of Teldrassil all they wanted. There were few still relevant who were as old as I, and none who knew death and the loss of hope as well as I. It was not my first plan, or my second, but the manpower was there for a reason. The High Overlord would act surprised and offended but that was hypocrisy. He had all but organized the attack on Darnassus himself. He would have seen the numbers and equipment and known it was a possibility all along. He could have prevented it, too, had he just <em> killed </em> that <em> simpering Druid.  </em></p>
<p>I balled my right fist and barely refrained from slamming it into the slate wall. There was no place for <em> weakness </em> in war. Mental weakness included. Though he served his unwitting purpose, at times I wished the Alliance <em> would </em> have killed the old Orc swiftly instead of nearly leading him in an <em> insurrection. </em></p>
<p><em> Weakness. </em> I thought about my <em> own </em> weakness. One that pervaded me, one that I kept wrapped tightly in my chest. One I could not afford anyone knowing — and now, with Proudmoore all but breathing down my neck at every turn, that was a very real possibility. I shuddered in disgust.</p>
<p><em> Emotion. That </em> is my weakness. I am still capable of it — in alarming strength. I clenched my eyes shut tightly and grit my teeth against the swelling feeling in my chest. When I met with my sisters — a thought which caused that swelling in my chest to lurch and a pressure to build behind my eyes — we played a game. A game where we were to tell two truths and a lie. It had been a snarky idea of fun for me, as well as a little bit of information gathering. Both for personal and other uses. I did not tell them which of my three statements was a lie. I presume they think all three could have been either truths or lies, or any combination in between, but I played the game by the rules.</p>
<p>My three statements were “sometimes I wish I was still alive, I am proud to rule the Horde, and I would never betray my sisters.” But I had already betrayed them — at any moment, I could have made the signal and my Dark Rangers would have shot them down. But the other statements...those were both true.</p>
<p>I unclenched my fist and brought my hand to my chest, to the scar left by Frostmourne. I traced over it with my eyes shut and sighed. My breath wavered slightly when I did. <em> So much </em> was taken from me that day and I still, decades later, could not move past it. I had moved on with my…”life,” sure, but that pain was still something that plagued me day in and day out.</p>
<p>“Sylvanas?” Proudmoore’s voice called from behind the door. I said nothing, she knew I was in here. There was a slight pause. “Blightcaller is looking for you.”</p>
<p>I rolled my eyes, barely resisting the urge to groan. Of <em> course </em> he was looking for me at the least opportune time. I glared at the wall and shut off the water.</p>
<p>“Fine. Tell him I’ll meet him in the war room in ten minutes,” I replied, not a trace of emotion in my voice. Oh, I very nearly let my voice have the bite to it my thoughts held. But I opted for emptiness. Emptiness was safer. Expected. Less...<em> threatening.  </em></p>
<p>That was one of the larger issues, really. I had to be seen as unthreatening. Unimposing. But my very <em> existence </em> was threatening to most of the people who wanted me to be kept under such tight supervision. I highly doubted Proudmoore watched me as closely as she did because she <em> wanted </em>to. At least, not for anything other than relaying any and all information to the Alliance, even if she hovered nearly constantly.</p>
<p>As I tugged on my leathers and fussed with my armor slightly, I figured I owed Proudmoore the smallest fraction of gratitude for her newfound...<em> position </em> in my life. With my outburst and the death of Saurfang, I had very nearly lost my position as Warchief. But when I had finished sulking at Windrunner Spire and mulling over my options, I returned to Orgrimmar. I would not lose my grasp on the <em> Horde </em>as well.</p>
<p>The welcome I received when I’d materialized near where Bloodhoof and Thrall were conversing was...less than warm. Far less than warm, though I hadn’t expected otherwise. Practically every weapon in the vicinity was pointed at me, poised to strike. It was only the large, raised hand of Thrall and his booming voice that caused everyone — or <em> almost </em>everyone — to lower their weapons.</p>
<p>I shook the memory from my mind before I could ruminate further as I tightened the final strap on my pauldrons, pulled my hood over my head, and strode out from the bathing quarters with the sort of lazy arrogance I knew was expected of me. Just because Proudmoore had volunteered herself as my consort to “keep me in line” didn’t mean I was going to change. Far from it, really.</p>
<p>No. If they were going to retain me as Warchief, they would have me as I have always been. I would not become lesser just because I was supposed to avoid confrontation and agreed to be a little less <em> threatening... </em>whatever that meant. I’d play by their rules, but that didn’t mean I’d defer to anyone, bend the knee, or walk with anything less than the poise and power I’d always carried myself with.</p>
<p>Guards in the halls, if they were not Forsaken, still stiffened at my presence. They held their weapons just a little tighter. I could see as the muscles in their legs slowly coiled, attempting to subtly prepare themselves to attack. It made the smirk I always kept on my lips in public a bit more genuine.</p>
<p>I brushed my cloak out of the way of the door with a flick of the wrist as I entered the war room, my eyes settling on Nathanos leaning slightly over the war table, his dull red eyes glaring slightly at something. My eyes met Anya’s for a moment where she was perched on the corner of the larger meeting table in the center of the room. She nimbly and silently hopped down from her spot.</p>
<p>“Blightcaller.”</p>
<p>Nathanos snapped to attention, one hand behind his back in formality as the other crossed his chest in a fist, representing half of the Forsaken salute. His duller human senses had only dulled further in his undeath, though I did what I could to restore much of it when I worked on his body.</p>
<p>“My Lady,” his gruff voice responded. He looked surprised by my entry, as though he had also expected himself to hear my approach. Anya looked smug beside him. “I bring reports of...<em> conflict,” </em>he continued, the bloodlust that colored his new life seeping into his words. His enthusiasm in and around battle had never been hidden, exactly.</p>
<p>“Conflict,” I repeated dryly, striding over to the war table. There were a few more blue pieces on the board than I’d seen in some time. I raised one eyebrow.</p>
<p>It was true that the Alliance and the Horde were supposed to, in theory, be entering a relative time of peace. Without me, the Horde would have reduced itself to a mere council. <em> With </em> me, they wed me to Jaina Proudmoore to ensure there was ample motivation on each side to cease any intentional fights between the factions. Of course, convincing <em> every </em>member of each faction all the way down to the lowest peasant was nigh impossible, but the message had, for some time, been respected. Particularly so by leaders, even if they were not the biggest fans of me.</p>
<p>
  <em> So, what have those hypocrites done now?  </em>
</p>
<p><em> “Gilneans,” </em> Nathanos sneered as I narrowed my eyes. <em> Gilneans, indeed, </em> I noted, looking at the crest on the sails of the figurines off the coast of the Eastern Kingdoms. “They seem to think <em> now </em>would be a good time to try to clear out and reclaim Southshore.”</p>
<p>I scowled. For <em> years, </em> the Alliance — and even Gilneas itself — had seemed to accept the land lost due to the extensive damage the area had sustained after we unleashed the Blight there. Not <em> all </em> of the damage had been intended, the semi-sentient slimes that unexpectedly formed out of the Blight and their ability to spread it further than the intended radius playing a major role in that, but the destruction had served its intended purpose and I cared little for the rest. We did not need the port town. For years, the Alliance hadn’t seemed to, either. <em> Then what has changed?  </em></p>
<p>“From what intel we could gather, my Queen, they have a number of mages aboard their ships. We believe they are there to neutralize what remains of the Blight and use that region as a base in order to forge their way to Lordaeron.” The significantly smoother voice of Anya was a welcome change from Nathanos’s snide and grisly tone. I had not much enjoyed the way he spoke in life, tolerable though it had been, and I certainly did not relish it in death. I hummed noncommittally in response to the report.</p>
<p>“Do they not think it foolish to thus endanger the very life of the one their own people sent to <em> spy </em>on me?” I mused, a hint of mirth in my voice that appeared to confuse Nathanos and amuse Anya.</p>
<p>“I had thought you would be outraged, my Lady,” Nathanos chimed in. The slight smirk that had graced my features at the thought of Gilneas possibly damning their most valuable asset disappeared as I cut him with a glare.</p>
<p>“You speak out of turn, Champion,” I warned him lowly. He was my Champion, yes, but there were <em> reasons </em> I kept him active and in supervision of the Horde champions — the fact that I could barely tolerate him after his... <em> transformation </em> being chief among them. He lowered his eyes. In my periphery, I could see Anya’s smirk widen a touch. She always did delight at his suffering, even in life. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you see? This could be a <em> boon </em> for us. I highly doubt the <em> boy-king </em> authorized this movement. He would never put his dear ‘Auntie’ at risk. Rather, this speaks of two things: that Worgen <em> mutt </em> continues to function under his own authority and there is enough splintering within the Alliance itself as a result of this Pact that they have the manpower to amass any force to make an unauthorized base in the first place.”</p>
<p>Nathanos hummed, a gravelly sound that spoke of far too much adoration for my taste. I barely bit back a grimace before he turned around from looking over the map once more. I looked at the small models of each nation’s crest that lined the top of the map, Horde on one side and Alliance on the other. I pinched side by side the purple crest of the Kaldorei and the blue and red crest of Gilneas, pulling them slightly away from the rest of the Alliance crests. I then turned around, pacing a wide circle around the room as I spoke.</p>
<p>“It is no secret that Whisperwind and Greymane publicly spoke against the Non-Aggression Pact, even when I was not initially in the picture. While we <em> are </em> privy to the exact words exchanged thanks to Ranger Anya here, we wouldn’t even need them to know this day would come eventually. What I see here is an opportunity to continue our fight against the Alliance in a more subtle, underhanded way, as I am sure you both will delight in hearing.” I nodded subtly at Anya in acknowledgement of her work; though I wouldn’t want her anywhere other than by my side as a Ranger, she truly should have considered the path of a rogue. I took a seat in my high-backed chair at the head of the table, propping my feet up on the corner with one leg crossed over the other. Anya remained quiet with a knowing smile on her face but Nathanos took a step towards me.</p>
<p>“What do you suggest, my Queen?” He asked.</p>
<p>“While the N.A.P. has prevented us from continuing traditional routes of war, the destruction of the Alliance does not need to be violent, or even instigated by the Horde. It would seem, rather, that the Alliance is doing a fine job of splintering itself even in times of...<em> peace,” </em> I drawled. “We need to find ways to exacerbate these fractures...to drive wedges deeper between the nations of the Alliance and pit them against one another without it being even remotely discernable as outside influence. While we cannot fully engage with the forces encroaching upon Southshore, we can certainly toy with them in terms of where we place our own forces. If we make them believe we are ramping up our presence in the area or poising to take the area for our own use, it should agitate Greymane. We can use that old wolf’s paranoia against them. Simultaneously, we can shift our attentions in other regions important to the Worgen and Kaldorei and play nice with the other nations of the Alliance. But it all must be with <em> purpose. </em>Things that we can justify as innocuous while we sow the seeds of unrest. Of course, if we are attacked outright, we retain the right to defend our land.”</p>
<p>It was the sound foundation of a plan. One I would have to enact in stages, in secrecy, without provoking Proudmoore into breathing more heavily down my neck. The first two parts of that were simple enough — after all, that was how most of my plans went. The final bit, though…</p>
<p>“Will that Alliance <em> wench </em> be a problem once things are significantly underway?” Nathanos asked, stepping closer as if to enhance the bitter hatred he managed to condense into the single insult. My ears pressed back slightly. While it was no secret that I was not a fan of the Lord Admiral or her presence in Horde territory, it also went against my few remaining morals to accept such blatant disrespect against my consort from an underling such as himself.</p>
<p>“Nathanos,” I growled in warning.</p>
<p>“Do you deny that she is meddlesome and of compromised moral structu—”</p>
<p>His voice cut off into a mild choking, his discomfort despite no need for air apparent as dark energy wrapped around his neck. I looked at him with a lazy sort of disdain, wisps of shadow trailing slowly from my fingertips.</p>
<p>“Despite her position as an <em> enemy,” </em> I drawled, “that is still my <em> wife </em> you insult.” There was no place for insubordination — no matter the yet-to-be-determined <em> accuracy </em> of the remarks — in my ranks. As much as I <em> loathed </em> the presence of Proudmoore ever so deep in my personal and professional life, I took vows akin to what I would have taken with someone I’d loved in life...someone I’d never had the chance to make a life <em> with. </em>My shadowy grip on Nathanos’s neck tightened at the thought.</p>
<p>Nathanos spluttered, his hands trying to grasp at but passing through the shadowy tendrils that still wrapped around his neck. With a harsh scoff, I let go, standing and looking down at him dispassionately as he dropped to his knees, massaging his flesh where it had cracked minutely. I could hear him attempting to get out a few hoarse apologies as I strode by him and towards the door without another glance.</p>
<p>“Tell the others that there will be new orders soon, Anya,” I instructed as I reached the door. I paused with my hand on the knob. “Tell no one of their content. I will handle this <em> myself,” </em> I continued with a sneer in Nathanos’s direction. He would not put his meddlesome hands into this work. I would think of something <em> else </em>for him to do, something far from any of the covert operations we were about to orchestrate.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Upon returning to my quarters, Proudmoore was, of course, perched on a chair in the living space, as though awaiting my return. Almost <em> definitely </em>awaiting my return, if the raised brow and inquisitive look she gave me were of any indication. I paid her as little mind as I could manage to as I unfastened the clasp of my cloak and removed it with a small flourish. She rose from her seat as I hung my cloak beside the two others I kept.</p>
<p>“Sylv—“</p>
<p>I cut her off with a slight growl, my ears pinning back as I rounded on her. She had dared to step closer to me, so I mirrored the action, bringing us but a foot apart.</p>
<p>“Refer to me <em> appropriately, consort,” </em>I spat.</p>
<p>“You are my <em> wife, </em>are you not?” She replied, her voice low and frustratingly smooth. “I believe that puts us on a first-name basis.”</p>
<p>“This is a <em> political </em> marriage, <em> Jaina.” </em>I had never spoken her first name alone before. I wasn’t sure I liked how it felt in my mouth. “Let there be no illusions about what that entitles you to.”</p>
<p>For a moment, she said nothing. The air was thick with the energies that all but bled from our skin, and it almost seemed that we would come to blows. How we hadn’t already in our yet-few weeks of marriage was a mystery and Nathanos’s pompous behavior had set me particularly on edge.</p>
<p>“Fine. <em> Warchief,” </em>she eventually spoke, quieter but with no less malice. “What business did Nathanos bring to you?”</p>
<p>I very much desired to tell her to shove it, that it was none of her business, and that she should know better than to pry. But that was not the deal that had been made. Truly, a spy of the Alliance in my own quarters, in plain daylight and not even pretending to mask her intent.</p>
<p>“Just a routine report of his field work,” I said, instead. I allowed my posture to relax slightly to back up the false mundaneness of my response. We had not stepped back from one another, and I watched as her eyes roamed over my face. It was as though she were taking in details, studying my appearance without the hood of my cloak for the first time due to our proximity. I raised one eyebrow at her. “Is that a problem?”</p>
<p>“No,” she replied swiftly, taking a half step back. “It simply seemed urgent. More urgent than a routine report.” The suspicion was ripe in her voice even as a touch of red dusted her cheeks. I rolled my eyes.</p>
<p>“Nathanos has...a flair for the dramatic,” I responded dryly, the very genuine annoyance he often stirred in me bleeding into the sentence. “If it is of even <em> marginal </em>importance, he seeks to inform me post-haste. It can be useful, if tiresome.”</p>
<p>All of which were true statements, of course, which aided my bluff. Jaina scrutinized my eyes, which I narrowed at her. The constant interrogation it seemed I’d be under in this marriage would surely grate on me sooner rather than later. I straightened my posture further than normal, using my slight height advantage in my favor to loom over Proudmoore.</p>
<p>“If you are unable to display even one <em> iota </em>of trust in me, this venture is already doomed. The people will not unite or cease their spats if we cannot even function in proximity,” I said coolly. I doubted the people of the Horde and the Alliance would stop fighting entirely even with the Lord Admiral as my consort, an assumption already proven correct by the movements of Gilneas, but the fools of the Alliance and the weaker-hearted members of the Horde seemed convinced this measure would ensure a lasting ceasefire. I realized I could change my tune and use that to my advantage if it meant curtailing Proudmoore’s inquiries into my actions and motivations. After all — when it comes to playing the long con, I have more time than most.</p>
<p>Not to mention <em> patience. </em>Humans are a hot-headed, brash bunch, hell-bent on creating a culture of instant gratification, and yet they still so often fail to accomplish their goals in their brief lifespans. I, on the other hand, already had thousands of years under my belt. Any goal I imagined, I could work towards with ample time to do so, which remained true in undeath. In fact, it was perhaps easier to imagine such a thing as undead, considering I knew there were ways to return should I be killed again.</p>
<p>“The image we portray to the public need not be brought into our private quarters,” Proudmoore replied indignantly. She looked over my features once more, doing a respectable job of schooling the blush out of her cheeks. “In fact, I would much rather it <em> not </em>be anywhere near here.”</p>
<p>She was, of course, referring to the occasional times we were required to be in physical contact. Though I held no more desire to be in contact with her than she did with me, there was, of course, opportunity there to create further discomfort for her. An idea occurred to me, then. It was cruel, perhaps, but any leverage I held over her was power I took back for myself — something I had to slowly regain along with my pride after being so clearly handed a personal spy by the enemy faction in the form of a loveless <em> wife. </em>I took the half step towards her that she had attempted to put between us, placing my hand on her cheek with a slow grin. To Proudmoore’s credit, she did not flinch as she had when my fingers touched hers during the exchanging of the rings at our wedding.</p>
<p>“We will have to act as though things are <em> developing </em> between us, <em> my dear,” </em>I drawled. My touch on Proudmoore’s face and our proximity was meant to be intimidating or at least unsettling, placing the living mage in close proximity to the energies of undeath. At the growing look of irritation on Jaina’s face, I assumed my play paid off.</p>
<p>"And develop, they most certainly will <em> not," </em> Jaina replied with a scoff as she wrenched her face free of my hold, finally putting distance between us. "Forced proximity or not, there will never be anything more between us, Windrunner, than spilt blood and the ashes of <em> war."  </em></p>
<p><em> There </em> was the spitfire I had come to expect of Proudmoore. The scheming, underhanded ways the Alliance wanted her to gather information didn't suit her. If she wanted something, or felt strongly about something, she’d make it clear. It fit her namesake.</p>
<p>"You know as well as I do that we are going to have to uphold certain images," I drawled, returning to the process of removing the cumbersome parts of my armor. As I unclipped my pauldrons and brought them over to the rack, I looked over my shoulder at her. "There will never be peace between our factions if you and I, the face of this little <em> union, </em>cannot move past our own grievances...at least on the surface.”</p>
<p>Jaina averted her gaze as I continued to doff my armor, stripping down to my leather legguards and chest wrappings. She was doing a fine job of making it look as though she was very much trying not to look. I was, of course, aware that part of the scar I bore from that accursed blade was visible with my breastplate removed.</p>
<p>“Go ahead, look all you want,” I drawled, unable to keep all traces of self-deprecation from my voice to my immense displeasure. “You will surely see it sooner or later, so go ahead. Gawk at the scar. I know that’s what everyone wants to see now when they look at me.”</p>
<p>No longer was I a figure of vanity and great beauty. No, that had been taken from me, too. Perhaps it was for the best. In this new life, with the responsibilities I held, there was no room for dalliances or even true romance. The unwavering loyalty and understanding my Rangers held for me was as close as I would get, barring the farce of my union to Jaina Proudmoore. But that hardly compared, given its artificial nature.</p>
<p>Jaina glanced at me, clearly meaning to barely take a look, but her eyes lingered on the rough tissue I knew and could always feel marring my skin. There were parts of it that would never truly heal, always burning an icy chill that my dulled sense of pain would always pick up traces of. The edges were raised but the blade ran so deep and with such unholy power that the center of it never fully scarred over. Instead, it was rough, and dented, tender to the touch. A weakness I had to cover continually. Just another weakness.</p>
<p>She continued to look at me until I shifted my weight, the motion snapping her out of her apparent trance. Glancing up at me, I could see a myriad of emotions and thoughts in her eyes before she masked them with a faux impassive visage.</p>
<p>“Satisfied?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Plenty. I had no need to look further,” she replied in clipped tones. It was, of course, a lie, but not one I was inclined to call her out on. It would have only led to the discussion of topics I had thought far too much on that day already.</p>
<p>“Good. Get used to it. I have no inclination to change my lifestyle simply because you brought it upon yourself to be my watcher and wife,” I responded plainly. She was simply going to have to get used to being around me. It was her responsibility, which she chose, and whatever that meant she’d have to deal with was what she’d have to deal with. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have paperwork to attend to in correspondence with Nathanos’s report.”</p>
<p>It was true, and I made my way to my desk in the next room in order to begin work on them. Some of the more detailed reports as well as numbers and requisition forms had been delivered while I received the debriefing from Nathanos and I would need to deal with them swiftly if things were to proceed discreetly.</p>
<p>Proudmoore made no move to follow me, returning to her perch in the living space, thankfully. The further she stayed from our plans to dismantle her little Alliance from the inside out, the better. Her presence was intrusive and smothering enough already without her breathing down my neck about our more covert, subversive operations.</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Wild Game of Survival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! I would have had this chapter out sooner, but I had originally been working on a different chapter and it was a major pain to try to write and, as the finer plot points of this fic started to solidify in my mind and I established a firm chapter count, I realized it wasn’t even necessary to the plot. So, I cut it out and skipped it, and here we are. I don’t really have a beta reader, so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes! I do my best to catch them before posting, but no one’s perfect.</p>
<p>Currently, in case you’re curious, my highest-priority fics are this one, a new and absolutely filthy one I’m converting from an rp, Porcelain, and Baby, You Could Be the Death of Me. I’m still working on my other WIPs, but not on a consistent basis/rotation like these, so if there’s another one you’re waiting on an update on, it’ll happen eventually! (I really wish I could promise more than that but life is getting busy again RIGHT as I’m getting my writing more organized...ugh.)</p>
<p>You may also notice that I got my shit together and picked relevant quotes from each song for the chapters, in the event that you don’t find any interest in the whole fic playlist thing :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Who's in the shadows? Who's ready to play? </em> <em><br/></em> <em> Are we the hunters, or are we the prey? </em> <em><br/></em> <em> There's no surrender, and there's no escape. </em> <em><br/></em> <em> Are we the hunters, or are we the prey? </em> <em><br/></em> <em> This is a wild game of survival. </em></p>
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<p>I looked up at Anya from across the map table that made up the majority of the small room she, Velonara, and I were standing in. There were furrows in all our brows and none of us had spoken yet. Our brows weren’t furrowed in confusion, though...rather, they were furrows of concentration, of consideration for the small, colored figures that peppered the map of the northern Eastern Kingdoms laid before us. Other maps with plans written in coded Ancient Thalassian on them lined the walls, and the figurines on the table represented both the same forces shown on the war table in the Hold above us and our hidden forces — the ones we’d continued to keep in secrecy, ready to move whenever I directed them. </p>
<p>The space beneath Grommash Hold had once been connected to the space in which Garrosh Hellscream conducted his twisted experiments and hardened his Kor’kron guards. Then, it had gone unused, until I converted half of it into Azerite munitions manufacturing and the other half into training and sparring grounds for the Dark Rangers. Then, after the signing of the Non-Agression Pact, I transformed it yet again, changing the Azerite munitions area into barracks and a secret, well-protected war room where I could keep my most covert of plans. A place so well-protected by locks and wards that only my most <em> trusted </em>Dark Rangers and I could find the entrance, much less actually enter. It was a small space, but there was just enough room for myself, Anya, and Velonara to walk around the table comfortably. Any more, and it would have felt crowded. The perfect place to keep things under wraps.</p>
<p>I had called them down after a long day of ceaseless, trivial meetings to strategize. It was absolutely draining to listen to such asinine people and requests when that time could be better spent calculating our next move, working to splinter and destroy — no. Working to cause the Alliance to destroy <em> itself. </em>Anya met my eyes from across the table.</p>
<p>"It's a sound plan."</p>
<p>"It is," I replied. "It's benign enough to be natural patrols and movement of resources, while militant and 'covert' enough to drive the old dog crazy." Velonara chuckled lowly beside me.</p>
<p>"Perhaps you can arrange a meeting with the lion cub and indicate displeasure at the increase in military posturing," Velonara suggested, running her fingertips down my arm with a smirk. I smirked as well, but otherwise ignored the gesture. The Rangers and I had always been...<em> close </em> in life — in death, they committed themselves to serving me, which had often manifested in a continuation of that... <em> devotion. </em> They knew better, though, than to push things once I was <em> married. </em>They knew me well enough to know that, even in a loveless marriage, I would not stray.</p>
<p>"Yes, that would be good. To express displeasure, which will undoubtedly get under the boy-king's skin, but also to get a pulse on what the Alliance leadership knows of one another's actions," I responded.</p>
<p>"The Lord Admiral may grow suspicious," Anya chimed in again, sidling up to Velonara and wrapping an arm about her waist.</p>
<p>"She might. It's a possibility I would honestly expect, actually. She has a tendency to stick her nose where it doesn't belong. While that could be considered a complication, I feel we can use it to our advantage if we play things right. We can carefully let some things ‘slip’ to make her believe she’s getting inside information when, in fact, it is information we want to feed to the Alliance to make them believe whatever it is we need them to.” Anya and Velonara both smirked at my response, nestling slightly closer to one another. I allowed my lips to turn up the slightest bit. It still heartened me, as much as a dead thing like me can be heartened, that my Rangers remained close to one another, and not simply devoted and loyal to me.</p>
<p>There was, of course, a small part of me that missed that companionship. While I had no real <em> need </em>for such things, and not much want for those things, either, it was a small comfort that my Rangers had found in each other that I was no longer a part of. Another degree of separation between myself and my most trusted, and another degree of separation between myself and the few joys that had not been entirely stripped from me. Granted, I was as willing a participant as I could be in my political marriage to Jaina Proudmoore. It was a tactical decision, as much as it could be, and I was not losing much in exchange for maintaining my position of power. So, I had little right to complain.</p>
<p>My smile must have soured slightly at my thoughts, as Anya reached out and placed her hand on my forearm, an understanding and still somewhat imploring look on her face.</p>
<p>"You know that we are always here," she told me, far too much kindness in her eyes.</p>
<p>"No one would know," Velonara added on. I shook my head.</p>
<p>"I appreciate your continued devotion, but you know better than most how seriously I consider these matters," I responded. They nodded. "If I am wed to Jaina Proudmoore, then it is only Jaina Proudmoore whom I shall bed." I paused, my frown deepening just the slightest bit. "Even if that means I shall never take anyone to bed again."</p>
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<p>Walking into the throne room of Stormwind Keep without plans for attack or conquest, and without <em> too </em>much of a response from the guards, was an experience I’d surely never get used to. The regal-yet-clunky look of human construction, with its pale grey stones and a fixation on stained glass, I also doubted would ever become a familiar sight outside of what may have remained in the Ruins of Lordaeron. But, new precedence was being set. The Non-Aggression Pact had seen to that, and, quite frankly, bought me entry into the Alliance’s most sacred places. One could learn a lot by merely existing among the enemy’s commonfolk — particularly when accompanied by one of their most trusted leaders, Jaina Proudmoore.</p>
<p>Anduin Wrynn, the boy-king who was slowly growing into his too-broad armor, rose to greet us. He welcomed us — me by title, Jaina by name — and opened his arms wide to embrace Jaina beside me. I did my best not to let my disdain for their closeness to show. It was harmless for her to have familial sentiment, even if I personally no longer could. It would do me no favors to begrudge her that, or use it as further fuel against the boy-king. Besides, I had <em> other </em>plans in place to deal with the Alliance.</p>
<p>Wrynn led us into a sort of war room, something halfway between a council chamber and what I was used to seeing in a Horde war room. The table had a map of Azeroth on it, though the table itself extended farther on either end of east and west, and currently bore no figures. It was likely that their <em> actual </em> war room, or wherever they kept their marked and decorated map, was elsewhere. Gods know the Keep had enough rooms with half a floor above and at least one floor below for them to use. It was a shame, really, though I understood. Pact or no, the Horde and the Alliance remained separate factions with a long history of blood and hate. They would be wise not to let me see if their maps looked the same as ours. <em> Perhaps the boy-king could be persuaded into bringing us there, if only in the interest of determining the state of the Kaldorei and Gilnean forces and their behavior.  </em></p>
<p>“It is encouraging to see that you still see merit in these meetings,” he began once we had seated ourselves around the empty map, his voice all breathy and diplomatic in a way that made it hard not to roll my eyes in response. “Continuing to keep communications between our factions open bodes well both for the Pact as well as the faith of our peoples.” </p>
<p>"It does," I agreed, though my voice did bear a few notes of sarcasm as I leaned back in my chair. I heard Jaina scoff quietly as I did so, which only bolstered my attitude. I knew she wasn’t a fan of the way I presented myself to both Horde and Alliance leadership alike: with an air of simultaneous boredom and contempt, superiority and derisiveness. The boy-king shifted slightly in his seat as it became clear I was not going to say anything more, and he clasped his hands together on the edge of the table.</p>
<p>“Well,” he said stiffly. “How do you feel trade negotiations have continued? Do your peoples have any concerns that the Pact should have addressed? Or, perhaps, do you have any ideas regarding trade and travel now that our borders are largely open?” I suppressed a grin at how he’d given me the perfect opening.</p>
<p>“Things have continued well, for the most part,” I began, shifting so I could rest my chin on one hand, elbow propped up on the table as I looked over at him. “Our trade routes seem to be flowing appropriately, and the exchange of resources has benefitted all, I believe.” I paused. “There is, perhaps, <em> one </em>thing I would ask you about, though.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” He tilted his head slightly, reminding me more of a puppy than High King of the Alliance. I hummed in acknowledgement.</p>
<p>“There seems to be...increased troop activity with the Kaldorei and the Worgen near Southshore. Is this something you know of?” I asked. His brow furrowed slightly, his poker face still needing a bit of work to conceal the mild confusion and possible surprise I saw in his eyes. “I haven’t sent anyone to see what the goal is for your people there, as I thought it best to confer with you first. I’m sure you know as well as I do that it isn’t always easy to ask our people to lay down old grudges.”</p>
<p>“I...was not aware that there were <em> any </em>troops near Southshore,” he responded slowly, clearly going over old missives and reports in his head to see if anything rang a bell. “Troops, you say? And not merchant vessels or trade routes?”</p>
<p>“The reports I received were very clear: night elf Sentinels and Worgen in armor were seen along with multiple non-merchant vessels on the coast. They appeared to be, from what I could glean from my patrol’s notes, setting things up in the area. A camp, perhaps, with tents and crates,” I replied. I narrowed my eyes slightly. “Which sounds awfully militant, if you ask me.”</p>
<p>“I would say so,” he replied, slumping slightly. Jaina cut him a look and he straightened his posture back out.</p>
<p>I had to suppress a chuckle at the sight — Proudmoore pulled more strings in the Alliance than I suspect even she knew. Something which, if I was being entirely honest, didn’t stay far from mind for very long. It was entirely possible that <em> she </em> was moving against me in secret. Though, based on the look in her eyes and her fiery temper, it didn’t seem like her angle, really. No, it had the stink of Kaldorei hiding in the bushes and Worgen sniffing about all over it. If anything, she was looking at <em> me </em>with suspicion of her own — suspicion not entirely misplaced.</p>
<p>“Are you certain of this activity?” She asked. I raised an eyebrow at her.</p>
<p>“You would doubt the validity of my Dark Rangers’ reports?” I countered. She scowled, knowing their fierce loyalty to me. “You would question my honesty to the man I allowed <em> wed me </em>to you for the sake of my position?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” she grumbled. The boy-king placed his hand on Jaina’s forearm, and I had to stop myself from bristling. It would do us no favors for me to lose my temper here.</p>
<p>“I would be more than happy to take you along on a patrol along our borders so you can see it for yourself,” I offered. My voice was even but I raised one eyebrow as if challenging her.</p>
<p>“That would suit me,” she replied tersely.</p>
<p>“I...will send missives to Genn and Tyrande to ask about their presence near Southshore, as well,” Wrynn added on, looking uncomfortably between Jaina and I as our gazes had not yet left one another. I was the one to break eye contact, turning to acknowledge him while Jaina continued to bore holes into the side of my face with her glare.</p>
<p>“Do let me know what you find out,” I replied, keeping my voice as smooth and even as I could with Proudmoore stoking my ire at every turn. “The sooner the better, really, so my patrols don’t grow restless or uneasy at the unexplained military presence.” He nodded.</p>
<p>“I will, absolutely. I trust our messenger systems have been working efficiently?”</p>
<p>“They have,” I responded.</p>
<p>“Then I will let you know as soon as I know more on this,” he practically breathed. Really, the amount of oxygen the boy put into his voice <em> had </em>to be forced. “So, as for the trade agreements — you’ve been finding them suitable? Mutually beneficial?”</p>
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<p>I had to admit — the Lord Admiral made a striking figure in full riding gear and atop a strong, Kul Tiran steed. She was almost more imposing like that than on foot in her mage’s robes, even the newer ones she’d been wearing for a couple of years that were more suitable for battle. For some time, she had been staring straight ahead, pointedly ignoring my presence. She glanced at me, narrowing her eyes at the way I was all but studying her.</p>
<p>“I can feel your eyes on me, you know,” she growled out, clearly both uncomfortable under my scrutiny and loathing the fact that I had to accompany her on this. We were riding in <em> my lands, </em> after all — even if Lordaeron was still rendered inhospitable and would remain so for some time unless a neutralizing agent was developed for the Blight. And that was something I had not ordered. Most likely <em> would </em>not, for the time being.</p>
<p>“Am I not allowed to look at my <em> wife?” </em> I responded, my voice cloyingly sweet. Jaina gave a disgusted scoff, and I smirked. <em> Another opportunity to make her uncomfortable.  </em></p>
<p>“I would rather you <em> didn’t, </em>thank you,” Proudmoore responded snippily.</p>
<p>“You cut a rather sharp image in that riding gear,” I continued as if I hadn’t heard her. “I’m sure there are those that would consider me <em> lucky </em>to be wed to you.”</p>
<p>“And they would be right. You don’t deserve a marriage to someone like me, <em> banshee.” </em>She was looking forward again, irritation clear on her features as she spoke. “You have a lot of nerve implying anything about this marriage is more than just a political statement designed to keep you in check while protecting the Pact.”</p>
<p>“Do not forget that we need to set <em> precedent </em>for our peoples,” I responded with a chuckle. We were approaching Southshore. “Stay to the woods that skirt around the area,” I continued, lowering my voice and slowing my skeletal horse so it was quieter. Jaina followed suit.</p>
<p>“We will most certainly <em> not </em> be setting <em> precedent,” </em>she hissed. I guided my mount so it sidled up alongside hers smoothly, placing us in close proximity.</p>
<p>“We will. We must.” I placed one hand on the small of her back as we rode closer to our goal, our horses uncomfortable next to each other but proceeding as we needed them to...not unlike Jaina Proudmoore and I in the marriage we were referring to. I felt her stiffen, and almost pull away, but gave her points for not doing so in the end.</p>
<p>Ever since our conversation on the night Nathanos brought me news about the Kaldorei and Gilnean troops, I had been working my way under her skin. It was an enjoyable process, watching her discomfort and anger flare with every small bit of physical contact I introduced around guards and leadership — and it was admirable how she controlled it. I could tell she often wanted to lash out, or at least break contact aggressively, but she seldom did beyond scathing comments.</p>
<p>Under the guise of guiding her, I pressed my hand against the small of her back as I slowly turned towards Southshore and slowed to a stop. I pointed out through the trees towards where it was very clear that Kaldorei had brought in supplies — their large, purple wooden boxes were hard to miss against the bleak landscape of dead foliage and remnants of the Blight.</p>
<p>“You can see some of the crates they’ve brought in right through the trees there,” I murmured, keeping my voice quiet so as not to notify the Alliance troops of our presence. “There’s more to see as we skirt the edges of the settlement, but you can see already that my reports were not fabricated.”</p>
<p>Jaina hummed as though she was begrudgingly acknowledging what she was seeing. I tapped my fingertips against her back and used my heels to guide my horse slowly around the inner edge of the woods towards what had once been an Alliance town. Shallow pools of Blight still marred the surface of the area, though much of it had evaporated. The only reason any remained, I imagined, was due to the slimes that had run rampant in the area a few years back. I could see the disapproval etched in the frown that seemed stuck on the Lord Admiral’s face. I suppressed a smirk, and pointed down one of the old streets of Southshore, down the main drag of the small settlement.</p>
<p>“Through there, you can see their ships, and more of their camp,” I pointed out. Jaina scrutinized the area carefully. A Worgen or two could be seen moving about, bringing boxes to and from various buildings near the back of the settlement where the Blight had not quite touched. That they were willing to put themselves and their supplies so close to the remaining pools of the toxic substance surprised me, though I imagined that, as they were wearing masks, they knew as well as the Horde did how to simply avoid breathing it in.</p>
<p>“Why are they…” Jaina began, though her voice was low, quiet, introspective. I was sure she hadn’t meant to begin that thought aloud, though it did pique my curiosity. The question could have been any number of things — <em> Why are they here? Why are they bringing so many supplies? Why are they staying so close to the Blight? </em>The list went on.</p>
<p>Beyond the shoreline, three Alliance ships were visible — Kaldorei ships, to be specific. Reports had mentioned at least one Gilnean vessel, as well, though it seemed that it was not there. Perhaps it was a runner between the city of Gilneas and the camp at Southshore. It would explain how they continued to offload supplies without the Kaldorei vessels leaving.</p>
<p>How the ships had entered into our waters without much notice was still a mystery to me. I needed to do some information gathering. I wondered if I should sic my Dark Rangers on the lookouts — something I’d most likely end up doing.</p>
<p>“Now, I have not heard of any troops leaving the area, but it seems as though they’re bolstering their forces here in Southshore,” I continued, turning us away from the town and back towards the outpost we’d portaled to from Orgrimmar. Despite my guiding her, Jaina’s eyes remained on Southshore until it was no longer feasible to. “This influx of supplies is concerning if your <em> High King </em>knows naught of it.” Jaina hummed again.</p>
<p>“It is…” She murmured. I allowed our horses some distance as we rode, to their relative comfort and Jaina’s relief.</p>
<p>We were able to ride back to the outpost in relative quiet, any conversation that cropped up being of no real importance and having no bearing on what we’d just seen. It was surprising, though also somewhat nice, that Jaina didn’t feel the need to be vocal about what she was witnessing and what I was implying about the Alliance forces. It allowed me the simple enjoyment of a ride through the woods, as much as I could enjoy that with a thinly-veiled <em> spy </em>at my side.</p>
<p>If I was being somewhat fair to her, though...her company was not entirely horrid. Generally speaking, yes, but not entirely. She had reduced the level of general snark and disdain she addressed me with after seeing the activity at Southshore for herself, trading the attitude for introspection. She also knew her way around a horse, and handled us moving between trails and through unmarked woods with ease, remarking only on things like the nature of a skeletal steed like my own, or the state of the somewhat sparse and dead forest around us.</p>
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<p>I counted it as another boon when I was left to my own devices upon our return to Orgrimmar. Clearly, the Lord Admiral had some thinking to do about what I’d shown her — what I’d been right about, and what her <em> Alliance </em>was up to, with or without the sanction of their High King. It gave me the time I needed to catch up with my spies and Rangers.</p>
<p>Below Grommash Hold, but not in the private chamber, I met with a couple of our most skilled rogues, Nathanos, and, again, Anya and Velonara. They were my prime operatives for this plot. Generally speaking, they were my prime operatives, full stop. Nathanos may have been my Champion, and their Ranger Lord, but it wasn’t like a real hierarchy. If anything, the other Rangers <em> could </em>hold more authority simply by virtue of how unified they were as a group and how close they remained with one another. Those sorts of bonds could carry one far.</p>
<p>“We have stationed the alpha team on the Tirisfal side of the outpost.” The raspy voice of Aleric Hawkins, a leader amongst the Deathstalkers and one of my longest-serving Forsaken spies, broke the charged but comfortable silence that had fallen over us. “Their provisions and movements in and out of camp can be seen from Southshore if one is looking for that sort of thing...which I think we all know those <em> mutts </em>are up to.”</p>
<p>“In my time at that camp, my Lady, I saw some things that may be of concern,” Deathstalker Quinn Yorick supplied.</p>
<p>He was not one of the best or strongest rogues in the organization, but he was weathered well through combat over the years against the Alliance and would do well guiding some of the Deathstalkers locally. He’d almost lost his life, and certainly lost a limb or two, in the fight against the Gilnean dog Ivar many years back, but he had rallied and remained in our ranks, serving Silverpine Forest however he could. I inclined my head at him, suggesting he continue. He stepped towards the small table we were gathered around, which was covered with a few notes and a map of the region.</p>
<p>“It appears that the Alliance is preemptively navigating a potential supply line leading right up to the border,” he continued, pointing at a few locations along the border between Tirisfal Glade and Silverpine Forest. “There are small camps set up at intervals near the border, but just far enough that you’d have to leave our outposts to find them. From what my agents and I can gather, it would appear that they are preparing as though they feel like they are guaranteed to win and take back Southshore.” I hummed, mulling over this information.</p>
<p>“It seems unlikely that they would do this merely for supplies,” I responded, stepping closer to the table to scrutinize the border. Picking up a stick of charcoal from the writing supplies on the corner of the table, I marked a small X at two locations near the border, at a distance from our primary outpost there where aid could come from the outpost in a reasonable amount of time. “Set up small stations at those two positions.” I marked three more spots, this time a little ways into Tirisfal itself. “And stockpile some weaponry and make small stations there, as well.” I placed the charcoal back down. “We will not be caught unawares.” I stepped back. “What more?” I prompted. Nathanos stepped forward.</p>
<p>“Our network reveals that <em> Greymane </em> was seen leaving Stormwind Keep quite angry not long after you and your... <em> consort </em> left the city,” he drawled, his disdain for both members of the Alliance clear in his tone. It was good that he had learned not to insult my <em> wife.  </em></p>
<p>“Then it is likely that he will move soon,” I responded. I drew a few arrows on the map to piece together our troops’ and supplies’s movements. “Begin these patrols. Use the pre-stationed troops to your advantage,” I began. “Do not bother to conceal your weapons. Those dogs will be sniffing around soon, and I wouldn’t want any of you caught unawares.” I leveled them all a discerning look that left no room for misinterpretation — I was deathly serious, and wanted them all to be as safe as they could be on such a delicate mission. “With Greymane angered, it likely won’t take as much to incite the Worgen to violence as we’d originally thought. He’s played right into our hand, but we need to take this with caution. The Kaldorei and the Worgen are both known for their savagery in combat. I expect you will fight smart, and not do anything that could be blatantly, objectively construed as aggression. This needs to come from <em> their side,” </em>I explained. They all nodded.</p>
<p>“We will do as you ask, my Lady,” Nathanos responded, crossing one arm over his chest in half of the Forsaken salute. I nodded in acknowledgement.</p>
<p>Things were coming along nicely.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Empire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Sylvanas plans "retaliation," Jaina doesn't buy Sylvanas's innocence for an instant, and maybe there's jealousy afoot...?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter was, for whatever reason, really hard to get through? So if it's a bit lackluster compared to the others, I apologize. Big Things happen next chapter, though, that really kick off the main plot, and I can't wait to get to work on it. Everything for the entire rest of the fic is outlined, and that excites my disorganized ass greatly, lmao.<br/>I'm going to try my hand at doing chapter summaries, too? Let me know if I suck at it lol<br/>Now to tend to the many other irons I have in the fire......</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> I'm in the empire business, </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> Built this from nothing with my own two hands. </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> There is no measure of pain, </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> Nothing can stand in my way, </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> And you will pay! </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> Mark my words: vengeance will find you soon.<br/><br/></em></p>
<p>I slammed my fists down by the edge of the war table, jostling the figurines that sprawled across it. Velonara, to her credit, did not even wince at the swift anger that overtook me once she’d finished moving — and <em> adding </em>— the small pieces.</p>
<p><em> "Damn </em> it," I ground out between bared teeth, my eyes flaring as I looked over the new troop placements once again. "How did we not <em> see </em>all of that?"</p>
<p>Many more blue figurines dotted the map of the northern Eastern Kingdoms than there were before Velonara gathered up and compiled the most recent reports, displaying the movements of both enemy troops as well as our more covert movements. It didn’t matter if there were more forces on the map than passers-by had seen recently. We were responding to a threat, of course there would be troops in motion. And there were more enemy troops than we had known of, somehow. Velonara, thankfully, knew better than to reply.</p>
<p>"They’re clearly encroaching upon Lordaeron, likely looking to retake it,” I murmured, running through some numbers in my head — how long it would take to mobilize our secret forces in the area to each strike point, how many were with each group, and whether or not it would be enough to counter the forces Velonara placed on the map. “They must have a neutralizing agent,” I continued. I ran my fingers along the map, tracing their movements and likely trajectories. “They wouldn’t send as many detachments that close to Lordaeron otherwise.” My ears pressed back again in irritation as I came to a decision. “Vel.”</p>
<p>“My Queen?”</p>
<p>“Mobilize the second, fifth, and seventh regiments. Position them just behind the remains of Brill here.” I pointed at a few copses of trees I knew still stood between Brill and the Ruins of Lordaeron. “I will be commanding an elite strike force to defend the area, as well — a selection of those who will be most efficient against the tactics the Kaldorei and Worgen are known for. We will be few, but we will be deadly. We’ll need the others for the primary fight in Southshore.”</p>
<p>Velonara nodded, moving the figures on the map table accordingly to provide a clearer picture. There were still a good number of troops at my disposal <em> without </em> calling upon many of the Champions of the Horde, which was good because there were still many who were reluctant to follow my rule. Even with Jaina Proudmoore to “keep me in check,” the Horde had fractures in it — fractures that were, of course, my own doing, which I knew and originally intended upon for a different outcome, but fractures nonetheless. Saurfang’s words echoed in my mind — <em> you just...keep...failing! </em>I scowled. I didn’t have time for that nonsense. Plenty of Champions would follow an order to defend Horde territory against a strike by the Alliance that violated the Pact, at least, and that was all I really needed.</p>
<p>“The first, third, fourth, and sixth should all move towards Southshore,” I continued. Those groups moved in pairs, and they were already within a reasonable distance of Southshore. They could be moved swiftly, and were efficient enough to form a frontline while the rest of our standard troops and any Horde volunteers arrived.</p>
<p>I opened my mouth to continue directing Velonara when a small spark of arcane that was slowly growing familiar bristled in the air near the edge of Grommash Hold — the beginnings of a portal, materializing hastily and nearly violently in the air. I narrowed my eyes as I watched the portal form. <em> Proudmoore.  </em></p>
<p>The mage in question stepped through, eyes alight with arcane power, her staff in hand and her robes flowing slightly with a wind that seemed to come exclusively from how swiftly she’d made the portal. There was an anger on her face that I hadn’t seen in a while — we’d mostly come down to pettiness and passive-aggressive attitudes with one another, compared to the spats we’d had in the first couple of weeks after the wedding. It was refreshing.</p>
<p>“You are <em> attacking </em> the <em> Alliance?” </em>Were the first words out of her mouth, spat before the glow could even fade from her eyes, the portal snapping shut behind her as she spoke. I did my best to maintain a calm visage, knowing that appearing blasé about the whole thing would only irritate her more — and she was more fun when she was angry.</p>
<p>“Guess again,” I drawled, slowly pacing around the table to stand in front of her with my back straight, arms folded behind me, and chin up. “We are <em> defending </em> our territory. Those <em> savages </em> have infiltrated not only Southshore, but are encroaching upon <em> Lordaeron </em>now. They are in Tirisfal. They are in places they are not authorized to be in, bearing arms, with more on the way. I am merely responding to their aggression.”</p>
<p>Jaina scowled, though there was the slightest flicker of deflation in her expression, and she pushed by me towards the map table, bumping shoulders with me in a clearly intentional and childish way. I heard Jaina grumble, glaring down at the table with her hands on the edge to brace herself.</p>
<p>“This is <em> bullshit,” </em>she commented after studying it for a long minute of judgement.</p>
<p>“I assure you, dear <em> wife, </em>that it is not,” I responded, raising one eyebrow as if daring her to challenge me on it. “You saw what I saw the day I took you to scout near Southshore. So tell me — does it truly seem like such a jump that the Night Warrior and her overgrown mongrel of a friend would give the order to strike?”</p>
<p>A silent moment or two passed where Jaina simply scowled at the map before her. She looked about ready to wipe all of the figures off of it and onto the floor...or something equally ridiculous.</p>
<p>It was exciting, in a way, to witness Jaina's anger so plainly and directly again. Neither of us was foolish enough to actually come to blows over our disagreements, so for it to seem as though she may resort to violence felt exhilarating. Not to mention the potent arcane in the air around her, something that seemed to swell any time her anger did.</p>
<p>My skin felt the itch for battle and my muscles were tense with anticipation. I may have smirked, if Jaina's narrowing eyes were any indication. I wanted to taunt her, to goad her into launching herself or her magic at me. A good, close-quarters combat between wives would have been <em> so </em>very satisfying then, especially when Jaina absolutely radiated that charged energy. Still, I remained silent. If something happened, it was on her. I had not done all of this planning behind the scenes just to violate the N.A.P. in impulsive bloodlust.</p>
<p>Jaina stormed — quite literally with the air so charged around her — up to me and leaned in close. I could feel the heat of life emanating from her skin and her arcane brushed over me in a sensation that was both heady and begging for me to give in to the temptation to strike her. She was close enough to jab an accusing finger against my breastplate and I could feel her breath when she spoke.</p>
<p>"If I find out that you were in <em> any </em> way responsible for the violation of the Pact, I will <em> end you, </em> Sylvanas Windrunner," she murmured darkly. "I did not sacrifice my livelihood, my chance to wed someone I could <em> enjoy </em> being married to, just for you to <em> spit </em>in my face."</p>
<p>I could practically feel the tension in her body, the tightness of her muscles as she stood, ready for a fight I was growing quite excited to have. I raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>"And I did not sacrifice my solitude just for your people to spit in <em> mine," </em> I countered, though with much less vitriol in my voice. "All that I am doing here is all any good leader would do. I am responding to a threat and combating those who threaten our livelihood. You realize they are threatening <em> yours, </em>too, do you not?"</p>
<p>I could see the growl that wanted to make its way past her lips as her jaw clenched and her eyes flared. </p>
<p><em> "Don't </em> pretend that you suddenly <em> care, </em>Windrunner," she replied, her voice low and quiet and all sorts of dangerous that I wanted to push and prod at.</p>
<p>I could not deny that her words were true, though. Pretty as she may look on my arm at formal affairs, she was just a figurehead like me, fulfilling a duty, and I held no investment in her beyond a vehicle for political deception.</p>
<p>"No? Are we not supposed to grow to tolerate each other?" I teased. “Besides, you’re the one interpreting it as <em> care. </em>What does that say about yourself? I assure you I only mentioned it to remind you that nullification of the Pact would mean that you are no longer off-limits as a target.” Jaina scoffed.</p>
<p>“I <em> assure </em>you that I hold no illusions about how ready you are to kill me at any given time. I wager you’d raise me, too, hm? Turn me into your tool — perhaps a lich, bound to your will?” She huffed and walked a few steps away, placing herself between me and the map table, with her back to me. I glared at her though she couldn't see it, completely enraged by her insinuation that I would enslave anyone for any reason, much less for something as petty as power. It took everything I had not to take the provocation to violence. “Frustrated or not, there is no way that Genn and Tyrande would strike unprovoked. They are pragmatic, no matter how impulsive Genn may seem," Jaina tacked on. I scoffed.</p>
<p>"So you don't think his warmongering attitude and the fact that Whisperwind became the embodiment of Elune's rage would pair together in a perfect storm of aggression?" I countered, crossing my arms. "And I resent your comment about raising you. That is not how I lead, and <em> you, </em> of all people, should know that — both from watching me so closely and from knowing what <em> happened to me," </em>I hissed.</p>
<p>Jaina stiffened for a moment before turning around, a fraction of regret in her eyes. Her lips were still pursed in frustration and distaste, and her arms were crossed, but she at least looked a little bit like she realized she shouldn't have said what she said.</p>
<p>"That was unnecessarily cruel of me, I concede," she relented, the closest thing to an apology I figured I'd be getting. If circumstances were different I may have been impressed, but, as it was, I wasn't going to let her feel <em> good </em>about realizing she had been an absolute bitch.</p>
<p>"It was," I responded dryly. Jaina shifted her weight around, uncomfortable with the heavy silence. It was like it took the proverbial wind out of the Lord Admiral's sails and left her marooned. After a long moment, she huffed.</p>
<p>"Though I do not <em> like </em> that you are mobilizing against the Gilnean and Kaldorei forces, I begrudgingly accept that they struck first. All evidence points to it, no matter how much I wish it didn't. But if you are <em> lying, Windrunner, </em>I will see personally to your repercussions."</p>
<p>"Don't threaten me with a good time, <em> wife," </em> I drawled with a smirk. "I don't think the <em> Alliance </em>would be very happy to know you enjoy punishing me behind closed doors," I continued, winking before turning to leave the Hold. I glanced over my shoulder at her as I reached the entrance. "Maybe we can continue this later if you wait up for me."</p>
<p>"I'd rather eat a bloody <em> murloc." </em></p>
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<p>Jaina became a bit of an ever-present accessory from that point forward, unwilling to give me much privacy with my Rangers or a very long leash in general. I often wondered how other Horde leaders would see the behavior, and whether they would interpret it as Jaina being particularly nosy or if they’d see it as cause for concern — if they’d see it as though there was something she <em> should </em>be watching for.</p>
<p>To be fair, that was the truth, considering the fact that everything that was occurring was part of my design. That being said, everything on the surface was coming along as planned, meaning that it would have been difficult for anyone to <em> actually </em>pinpoint the origin of these battles on me or my people without there being a leak in my innermost circle...which was a ludicrous idea in and of itself.</p>
<p>Thankfully, it didn’t seem as though any of the Horde leadership believed that the aggression was a result of any behavior on our part. If they did, they masked it well, both in meetings with myself and those they had with each other that my informants watched closely. The sentiment by and large was frustration and disappointment, given that the rest of the Alliance nations and, of course, our <em> own </em>were abiding by the pact, even if begrudgingly. This boded well for the bodies I’d need to send from outside of the Forsaken to combat the Kaldorei and Gilneans. They wouldn’t hesitate to re-engage in battle with people they still saw as the enemy.</p>
<p>I was contemplating that and the matter of who to select for our strike forces when Jaina approached me next. I could practically feel the frustration and accusation rolling off of her when she leaned against the doorframe to my office and crossed her arms. The only way she could have telegraphed it more was if she gave an overdramatic huff to accompany it.</p>
<p>“Come to accuse me again of non-existent aggression?” I drawled before she had the chance to open her mouth. She scowled, and I rested my elbow on the desk to prop my head up while I looked at her.</p>
<p>“What is your <em> game </em>here, Windrunner?” She responded with ire, ignoring my question.</p>
<p>“There is no ‘game,’ Proudmoore,” I replied. I kept my tone even, not exactly in the mood to provoke her and engage in the song and dance of our typical arguments. I had battles to plan, champions to select, and meetings to arrange.</p>
<p>"I refuse to believe you had no hand in this," Jaina sneered.</p>
<p>"Then continue to believe a lie that you crafted in order to comfort yourself with the continued delusion that your Alliance is morally superior to my Horde," I responded flippantly, turning back to my paperwork with a shrug. Jaina walked up to me, standing right beside my chair. I glanced up to see her glaring down at me, as though she could intimidate me by looming over me.</p>
<p>"You think you have everyone fooled. And maybe you almost do — but you have not and will not fool <em> me. </em>I am not so naive as to think that you minded your business while the night elves and Worgen set up camp in Southshore. I will concede that they made unsanctioned moves to reclaim the territory. That much I will allow for. But on this scale? With troops as far inland as we've seen? You had to have done something," she accused. I sighed, disinterested.</p>
<p>"My existing is enough for them to advance and escalate," I drawled with a wave of my hand. Jaina shifted her weight from one leg to the other. I wondered if the tightening of her jaw meant she couldn't think of a good enough counterargument to that.</p>
<p>"If this restarts war between our factions, I will have your head on a pike before you can open your mouth to wail, <em> wife," </em>Jaina threatened. I merely smirked.</p>
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<p> </p>
<p>The reports over the next couple of days came in like clockwork. Either magically delivered or brought by runners, the temporary outpost I threw together in the heart of Tirisfal began to be overrun by battle plans, casualty reports, updates that needed to be applied to our map table, and so on.</p>
<p>It seemed, at first, that Southshore was indeed the primary target. The Kaldorei and Gilnean forces poured off of their vessels in rather large numbers, emptying — again, at <em> first </em> — directly into the wrecked town. But it became clearer and clearer, as the day went on and my runners encountered more and more obstacles between the front and where I'd set up near Lordaeron, that Southshore was only a <em> small </em>part of their plans.</p>
<p>They were launching a multi-pronged attack, the small bases they'd positioned near Tirisfal becoming anchors for portals for troops to move through from their offloading in Southshore. The savage Worgen killed practically anything in their way — wildlife <em> or </em>Horde — and the Kaldorei made use of the tree cover to spread swiftly.</p>
<p>I clenched my fists after I updated the makeshift map table with the newest reports. Jaina stood behind me, looking over my shoulder, lingering like a hovering parent just waiting for me to do something she didn't approve of. I gestured at the sheer number of figures on the map.</p>
<p>"Still convinced this aggression started with <em> me?" </em>I drawled, crossing my arms as I turned my head to look at Jaina with one raised brow. Jaina sighed, glaring first at the map and then at the stack of reports I had.</p>
<p>"...No," Jaina finally replied after a minute, her tone thick with ire. "I did some digging, met with Anduin again. The Alliance truly did not know of this attack, much less the scale of it. And the fact that they're spilling into Tirisfal en masse…" She trailed off. I hummed, acknowledging and agreeing with her finally coming to that evaluation.</p>
<p>"Yes, it would appear that Southshore was a diversion," I responded, surprised that Jaina was, albeit begrudgingly, accepting what was supposedly happening. Her instincts about my involvement may have been right, but all logical, external signs pointed to the others as the aggressors — particularly considering they were pushing their boundaries. Even I had not planned for or wanted that. Southshore was supposed to be the focus — it was already a wasteland, after all. Not exactly a loss if things went awry. "I will need to mobilize swifter strike units here in Tirisfal. We'll need more numbers. I cannot let them push in on Lordaeron."</p>
<p>“...What’s <em> left </em> of Lordareon,” Jaina grumbled, certainly to herself but not quiet enough for me to miss it. Surely, she would have known that, having not backed up an inch from where she stood behind me. I rolled my eyes and turned to face her. To her credit, she didn’t shrink back or give up any space. On the other hand, that left us closer together than <em> I </em>was necessarily comfortable with. Before I could give her a response, she pushed me aside to get a better look at the maps. I turned to look over her shoulder, putting us in opposite positions.</p>
<p>“Just because it is currently uninhabitable does not mean that Lordaeron is <em> gone, </em> or any less of a territory and former home of my people,” I pointed out, trying my best not to chuckle at how Jaina tensed, as though she didn’t expect me to <em> actually </em>be right behind her, looming over her as she did to me. She ran her fingertips idly over the edges of the maps and cleared her throat.</p>
<p>“Where do you plan to get all of these troops from, anyway?” She asked. Her voice sounded carefully neutral. “Surely the Forsaken does not have this many units.”</p>
<p>“And if we did?” I asked, though we truly did not. Contrary to Alliance belief, I had not risen every corpse of the Fourth War into service, or whatever ludicrous claim they’d made.</p>
<p>“Then I would have concerns about what you’ve been up to these past couple of years and even more concerns about what plans you’re putting into action behind the scenes now,” Jaina replied as if it were obvious. It was, after all, the exact response I’d expected.</p>
<p>I knew, roughly, where I'd get my own numbers from. We had contingency plans involving Horde champions, after all. They'd simply been focused on Southshore rather than Lordaeron. But it wouldn't take much to shift those forces — even less if a certain mage would portal them for me. I glanced at Jaina for a moment, wondering if she would, before deciding against asking. She held no interest in assisting us, was not engaging in any real strategizing or anything. </p>
<p>Granted, that wasn't her job, and it certainly wasn’t the side she wanted to be on. But the Alliance even stated that the Kaldorei and Worgen had gone rogue, so to speak, by attacking, and I had to admit that they seemed to have strategized even further than I’d expected them to. This was more than a provoked attack — it was organized aggression, on a scale that would have taken some time to put together.</p>
<p>“As Warchief, I have access to champions from <em> all </em>of the Horde races, not just the Forsaken," I pointed out. There was a faint rustling in the treeline that I recognized and heard before Jaina did, so I began to walk over there.</p>
<p>"Hey, where are you—"</p>
<p><em> "Vel," </em>I drawled, my voice oozing with dramatic affection. I wrapped one arm around her waist as we turned and walked towards the map table.</p>
<p>That was something I'd been introducing into my mind games with Proudmoore — getting in her space and under her skin just to, on occasion, see how she'd react to me being <em> close </em>with my Rangers. It was hard to tell how it was truly affecting her, but she was consistently uncomfortable with having me in close proximity and occasionally bristled when I was with my Rangers if she thought I wasn't looking. I was.</p>
<p>This time, I think Jaina's frustration got the better of her because she crossed her arms and scowled at me.</p>
<p>"Tell me you've only brought me good news," I continued. Velonara chuckled.</p>
<p>"As if," she replied with heavy sarcasm. I sighed, letting Velonara approach the map table herself to update the markers and figurines. Jaina was scowling still as she watched from the other side of the table, having not moved, so Velonara had to place things upside-down. "They've pushed deeper into Tirisfal already."</p>
<p><em> "Damn," </em> I spat. That was not good. "We need more <em> time </em> to move champions around," I told her. She nodded. I looked over the map quickly and could sense Jaina watching me as my eyes roamed from outpost to outpost, company to company. Calculating. Thinking about timing, efficiency, efficacy. I couldn’t afford to drop one front just because a new one appeared or the focus needed shifting. "I need the rest of you here with all haste. I am sending Nathanos and some of the Kaldorei Dark Rangers to Southshore to help the others shut that down <em> efficiently," </em> I continued, changing the placement of a number of Horde figures on the map quickly. At the end, I picked up the figurine of the Shattered Mask from where it had rested for some time on the sidelines and placed it in the center of the remains of Brill. "We're going <em> hunting," </em>I finished with a wide smirk.</p>
<p>Velonara saluted me with a grin of her own before turning quickly to dart back into the forest. With their abilities, it wouldn't take long for Velonara to deliver the new orders and return with my company in tow. That didn't give me long to get things sorted with Nathanos.</p>
<p>"I need a portal to the Hold," I said without looking up at Jaina. I didn't need to — she hadn't uncrossed her arms yet and was probably still scowling.</p>
<p>"You know you're married to <em> me, </em>right?" She actually dared say instead of replying. I masked my slight surprise at how direct her words were.</p>
<p>"We need not 'keep up appearances' in front of my Dark Rangers, you know. They hold no illusions about this marriage being anything other than a series of flimsy checks and balances for a pact that's already fraying at the edges," I pointed out with a raised brow, slowly lifting my gaze from the new positions on the map once I was satisfied I’d memorized them well enough to replicate on the table in Orgrimmar.</p>
<p>"That doesn't mean you can just drape yourself all over them," Jaina countered, narrowing her eyes.</p>
<p>"Why, is that <em> jealousy </em> I hear?" I teased with a grin before promptly dropping it. "A portal to the Hold, <em> please," </em>I repeated, asking 'nicely' in the driest of tones.</p>
<p>"I'm feeling disinclined to after that little display," Jaina shot back, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.</p>
<p>"Now is <em> not </em>the time, Proudmoore," I replied sternly, crossing my own arms to mirror her stubborn attitude. For a solid minute, Jaina didn't speak or start casting anything.</p>
<p><em> "Fine," </em> she eventually said, stepping back and beginning to cast. "Make it <em> quick."  </em></p>
<p>"Maintain the portal and it will be," I countered, uncrossing my arms and walking around to the portal and through it.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Nathanos was, as I anticipated, standing beside the throne in the Hold. His dull red eyes shifted past me with disdain, no doubt looking back through the portal at Jaina. I barely resisted rolling my eyes but let it slide because I simply didn’t have time to reprimand him for his prejudices.</p>
<p>“My Queen,” he greeted me, standing up straighter as I approached him. “What news?”</p>
<p>“Gather the Kaldorei company,” I responded, striding quickly over to the war table. I began to place the figures on the map as they were at our outpost. Nathanos gave a half-salute, pausing. “Swiftly, Nathanos,” I chided. He jolted, beginning to move. “I will brief all of you at once.”</p>
<p>It did not take long for him to round up the Kaldorei company, thankfully. They were all in the barracks beneath the hold except for a couple, who were easily located and not far off. Once they arrived, I wasted no time on getting into the plan. There was no need among Dark Rangers for pleasantries.</p>
<p>“You are going to head the resistance in Southshore. I want you to support the Horde defenses that are already there. My company and I are shifting our focus to Tirisfal. As you can see—” I gestured towards the table and they encircled it quietly. “—Kaldorei and Worgen are portalling into the Glades and encroaching upon Lordaeron. It appears that this was their goal all along, and that Southshore was merely a distraction, a secondary front with easy access to the sea. Clean out the filth that remains and show them why it was folly for them even to set foot in <em> Southshore, </em>much less Tirisfal Glades.”</p>
<p>I didn’t bother trying to come up with any sort of arbitrary motivational “speech” of sorts like so many races made commonplace. The bonds and drive among the Forsaken, and the Dark Rangers in particular, made it entirely unnecessary. They would fight for me, as arrows in my quiver, some even going so far as to adopt the turn of phrase for themselves. I was grateful not to have to go through such a frivolous process.</p>
<p>Turning to the portal Jaina maintained, I could see her feigned boredom and barely resisted rolling my eyes at how haughty she seemed to always be. Past her, I could see my company standing, ready for direction. A small smirk curled my lips as I stepped towards the portal.</p>
<p>“Come,” I said without looking back. “We have pests to exterminate.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know what you thought! Comments give me life and motivation, which lord knows I need a lot of.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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